The Orchard of Hope (27 page)

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Authors: Amy Neftzger

Tags: #hope, #fantasy, #magic, #wolves, #gargoyle, #quest, #gargoyles, #the kingdom wars

BOOK: The Orchard of Hope
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“We have a chance to harvest this
crop of hope for the first time in months,” Brother Michael said as
the council meeting began. “I’m open to attempting negotiation with
the wolves, but as we all know, that tactic hasn’t worked in the
past. If there’s any new approach that anyone can suggest, I’m
willing to hear the suggestion.”

“Maybe the problem isn’t the
wolves,” Sister Clementine said quietly. Kelsey, still holding her
knife and admiring the beautiful intricate carving on the handle,
stopped at Sister Clementine’s statement and looked up. Now she
began to pay more attention.

“Is it us? Are we the problem?”
Brother Michael asked as his face and neck turned bright
red.

“No,” Sister Clementine replied.
“It’s the hope. It draws the wolves. Maybe we should get rid of
it.”

“What?” Brother Michael said. Then
he shook his head. “That’s not an option.”

“Why not?”

“Because our job is to cultivate
hope for the nation. No one can be successful at anything without
hope. The king, the people – we all need it.”

“But if that
hope is placing everyone in danger, then it should go,” Sister
Clementine replied with conviction in her voice.

It

s not worth
the risk of getting hurt. We can’t trust the wolves to negotiate
because they’re liars, but perhaps we should surrender the trees to
the wolves and allow them to take the hope away. Once they get what
they want, they’ll leave us alone, and we’ll be
safe.”

“We can’t do that, Brother Michael
said. “That would be treason!”

“Why not? Why can’t
we?”

“Because this hope belongs to the
king. It isn’t ours to dispose of as we wish. If we make a present
of the hope and give it away, then we would be the thieves instead
of the wolves. Us!” As Brother Michael spoke his voice grew louder
with each word.

“It’s too dangerous to keep it
around. Hope will get us killed,” Sister Clementine said
forcefully.

“Hope doesn’t kill,” Roland said
calmly.

“I suppose you would know better
than any of us about that,” Sister Clementine replied.

“But that doesn’t mean the
solution has to involve killing,” Roland said. “In fact, the king
would prefer we not kill the wolves, if at all
possible.”

“Who wants to talk with them
then?” Brother Michael asked as he stared at Maggie. His eyes
narrowed as he studied her calm expression. “Who wants to talk to
the big bad wolves with enormous teeth and sharp fangs and powerful
jaws that could crush a little girl before she had a chance to ask
any questions?”

“Enough!” Kelsey shouted as she
slammed the tip of her knife into the table top. The effect was
dramatic, and Brother Michael immediately sat down in his chair.
“We need a plan. Now, we have an advantage in that the wolves now
have a memory of hope existing only in their dreams. Memories can
be powerful things, even when they’re not your own. I know this
from experience.”

“Excuse me if I don’t risk the
lives of the Brothers of Discipline over a memory or two,” Brother
Michael said.

“No one said we had to negotiate
unarmed or unguarded,” Kelsey replied. “But I don’t see why we
don’t try that approach first. Then if the wolves want a fight,
we’ll give it to them.”

The group continued to argue over
whether negotiating would work any better this time than it had in
the past, each person providing a different perspective and no one
completely agreeing with anyone else. In the end, they decided to
follow Kelsey’s suggestion because no one could offer a good reason
not to try again. Perhaps it was the fragrance of the hope drifting
in through the open window.

Dusk was quickly approaching.
Kelsey had taken her leather armor and dressed Maggie in it, but
she had told Maggie to wear a layer of thick wool undergarments.
Kelsey thought the extra padding on Maggie’s body would help to
protect her. However, Maggie looked like a child getting ready to
go play out in the snow. Her arms would not quite go all the way
down, and they stuck out at her sides.

“I look foolish,” Maggie insisted.
“No one will take me seriously if I go and meet the wolves like
this.”

“Why not?” Kelsey asked. “Your
words are what’s most important. It’s what you say, not what you
look like.” She tried to sound confident, but she was worried about
Maggie. Her friend wasn’t a fighter, and if the wolves turned on
her during negotiations, Maggie wouldn’t have a chance.

“That does it,” Maggie said as she
undressed. “I’m not wearing this.” She pulled on the laces holding
the leather pieces together to loosen them, and the leather
breastplate fell to the ground with a thump. She unlaced the pants
and started to climb out of them when Kelsey stopped
her.

“OK, you do look silly. But please
wear something. I won’t feel comfortable if you don’t. You’ll be
very close to the wolves, and I need to feel confident that I can
get you away without you getting hurt.”

“I can’t look stupid. I’ll be less
effective as a negotiator.”

“How can be we certain that the
wolves even know when someone looks stupid?” Kelsey asked. “They
might have very different fashion standards.”

“Regardless,
I
will know if I look stupid, and that can affect
my performance as a negotiator.”

Kelsey looked up and down at her
friend’s small frame. She thought about different ways to protect
Maggie, but almost everything she thought of would pad Maggie so
much that she’d appear like a stuffed doll. Kelsey finally realized
that she had to compromise.

“How about wearing the leather
breastplate without the padding?” Kelsey asked. She had decided
that this one piece of armor would protect Maggie’s heart, and this
was the vital aspect of the situation. People could survive almost
any other type of injury, but they died from wounds to the chest.
“You can wear anything else with it,” Kelsey insisted, and Maggie
agreed. However, she would not wear the leather pants, because she
wanted Kelsey to have some protection. They argued the point for
several minutes.

“You need to have something,”
Maggie said firmly. “You can’t give me everything you brought with
you to protect yourself.”

“I won’t need it.”

“I won’t wear the breastplate
unless you wear the pants.”

“Fine,” Kelsey snapped.

“Fine,” Maggie snapped
back.

As soon as they were dressed, they
went outside and waited in the orchard with Roland. Brother Michael
refused to attend the negotiation, but he was dressed and ready for
battle as he waited inside the abbey with about 20 men. Sister
Clementine walked out into the orchard with her chin held high and
joined Kelsey. She was wearing her brown canvas work robe and had
no protective clothing on her body. If anything, Kelsey thought,
the loosely fitting robe would make it easier for the wolves to
grab her if they wanted to attack someone.

“Lack of faith,” Sister Clementine
said as she nodded in the direction of where Brother Michael was
hidden to watch the discussion. “He doesn’t believe in talking
things out, and I know he enjoys a good fight. We’ve been fighting
for years.”

“What’s the code word again?”
Maggie asked as she turned to face Kelsey. “Which one did we decide
was better?” They had discussed so many options and wanted to
select one that could be heard above the noise.

“Gingerbread,” Kelsey replied.
“Don’t worry. If things go wrong I’ll be screaming the code word,
and if Brother Michael doesn’t show up, I will kill him myself. You
just concentrate on your job.” She breathed in the sweet orchard
air with long deep breaths.

Kelsey pushed her long woolen
sleeves above her elbows, rolling them up to secure them in place.
The night air was getting cold enough to see her breath, but she
wanted her arms to be completely unencumbered if she needed to
fight. She was willing to negotiate, but she also wanted to be
ready. There was no way to know in advance which way the
conversation might go.

Maggie also took several deep
breaths as they heard the sound of howling in the distance and
listened to the pack drawing near. After a few minutes they could
hear the sounds of the paws on the grass thudding like a giant
popcorn maker shaking the ground again. As the noise grew in
volume, Kelsey looked up out of the valley at the pairs of glowing
eyes rapidly approaching. She could also see the puffs of breath as
the wolves panted in the frosty breeze. Maggie took another deep
breath and stepped forward. She raised her arms, opening them out
to each side so that the wolves would know that she was
defenseless.

Kelsey followed Maggie closely. She
held her hand near the sheath where she kept her knife, trying not
to be too obvious about it. Her vigilant eyes scanned the pack of
wolves and as they descended toward her. She identified the pack
leader by the way he steered the group. All the other wolves
followed the subtle motions of the leader’s snout when he turned to
the right or left even the slightest bit.

The smell of the hope ripening on
the trees was so sweet, it was almost sickening to Kelsey, whose
nerves were heightened by the impending confrontation. The thought
of talking was more nerve wrecking than the thought of fighting.
Talking felt too open, too vulnerable, to Kelsey. The situation was
terrifying and yet thrilling. Normally, Kelsey would be enjoying
the potential for a battle. Tonight she felt uneasy. The
negotiation attempt, accompanied by the thought that Maggie might
get hurt, made Kelsey nervous. She stretched out her fingers and
wiped her sweating palms on her shirt as she waited.

“We’re here to talk,” Maggie
shouted when the wolves stood just outside the orchard. She stood
tall with her chin lifted in the air.

“Talk all you want among your own
kind. We didn’t come here for words,” the wolf leader shouted
back.

“My name is Maggie. I represent
the king of this land and the abbey here where the king’s hope is
being grown. This orchard belongs to him.”

“Hope is for everyone, not just
kings.”

“What is your name, sir?” Maggie
asked.

“Bardou.”

“Mr. Bardou, I agree with you that
hope is for everyone. The king does share his hope, but it’s not to
be taken without permission.”

“We have no access to the king,
and we need as much hope as possible,” Bardou replied.

“How do you know that you require
this hope more than others to whom the king has granted the
permission to harvest it?”

“I don’t know the situations of
others. We only know what we know. We’re not stealing this hope for
ourselves. We’re attempting to repay a debt so that we can be free
again. All we want is our freedom.”

“Free from what?” Maggie asked,
but her words were lost underneath the shouting of Sister
Clementine accusing the wolf of lying. She was shouting about how
lies would not save anyone and trying to encourage the wolves to
leave them in peace. However, the sound of the sister’s voice was
enough to cause a rising in the wolves, and the entire pack charged
forward on instinct.

“Gingerbread!” Kelsey screamed
loudly as she began pushing Maggie back toward the abbey as fast as
she could. However, the wolves were faster.

Chapter

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